Clean air, clean towns, mountains, John Denver's dream, Paul Dooley (you know, the dad from Sixteen Candles), small town charm, bridges, Appalachian heritage, coal mining, back country roads and West Virginia University brought us to Morgantown, West Virginia. We were hoping Morgantown would be an idyllic riverfront college town. But it's a little town with an invasive student body and a fanatical local citizenry devoted to the Mountaineers and the Pride. Beloved WVU has a lovely brick campus, PRT (Personal Rapid Transit) and a mountaineer for its mascot. If Pellew could join the Varsity Club upon enrollment at WVU, we could fit right in! However, we suspected early on that if WVU vanished, the spirit of Morgantown's people may vanish as well.
A comic shop guy whose happy-to-recommend voice is like a snarl warned us when school's in session it's impossible to get in or out or around downtown from Thursday to Sunday. A trip to the public library with too many year-old flyers and a disinterested staff left us feeling indifferent. While trying to view the town from a bridge spanning the Monongahela River we were rudely interrupted by a local and his lifted red F-150 with 33" wheels. The pep in our step faded and any fantasy Pellew had of joining the glee club dissipated with the roar of glass-packs. All in all, the tasty gyro and friendly staff at the Pita Pit weren't enough to help us imagine living in Morgantown.
About fifteen miles east of Morgantown the view of the Cheat River Gorge from Cooper's Rock, named after a fugitive who hid out in the mountains and made barrels for locals out of the blighted American chestnut, should have been spectacular but was hazy. However, it was a treat to see the buildings constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) are still in use today. Along the interstates we see signs that the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act is "Putting America to Work," and although we don't feel the progress and haven't seen anyone actually working, we like to think that whoever designed the sign was paid well enough. We're doubtful the ARRA will have any chance of a hope of achieving the impact, longevity and creativity of the New Deal's WPA. They're incomparable and that's a shame.
A comic shop guy whose happy-to-recommend voice is like a snarl warned us when school's in session it's impossible to get in or out or around downtown from Thursday to Sunday. A trip to the public library with too many year-old flyers and a disinterested staff left us feeling indifferent. While trying to view the town from a bridge spanning the Monongahela River we were rudely interrupted by a local and his lifted red F-150 with 33" wheels. The pep in our step faded and any fantasy Pellew had of joining the glee club dissipated with the roar of glass-packs. All in all, the tasty gyro and friendly staff at the Pita Pit weren't enough to help us imagine living in Morgantown.
About fifteen miles east of Morgantown the view of the Cheat River Gorge from Cooper's Rock, named after a fugitive who hid out in the mountains and made barrels for locals out of the blighted American chestnut, should have been spectacular but was hazy. However, it was a treat to see the buildings constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) are still in use today. Along the interstates we see signs that the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act is "Putting America to Work," and although we don't feel the progress and haven't seen anyone actually working, we like to think that whoever designed the sign was paid well enough. We're doubtful the ARRA will have any chance of a hope of achieving the impact, longevity and creativity of the New Deal's WPA. They're incomparable and that's a shame.
I'm impressed you know about glass-packs. I felt a tingle in my heart place.
ReplyDelete